Nine weeks of Spanish and he’s fluent now, his own version.
Just this morning he counted to infinity. Twice.
We began a fifth chapter book tonight at bedtime, Who was Albert Einstein, because he saw it and couldn’t wait to start. There are also bookmarks in Skinnybones, The Boxcar Children, Captain Underpants and Who was Thomas Alva Edison.
After school last week he was explaining needs and wants and gave examples of food and candy, clothes and video games. Asked about books he immediately classified them as needs because they’re food for your brain. Duh.
He leaves his calling card, half-built lego structures with wheels and propellors, all over the house. This evening's creation was a piece of Earth that shows what it looks like when you're in space -- sections of lava and ocean and sand and grass and clouds.
A few weeks ago he figured out the remote control for his motorized gears could set off the fire alarm at RoRo’s house, if he stood on the right step and aimed the antennae at the alarm.
He's using a box of parts, broken radios and old computers, wires and transistors and bottle caps, to disguise his Thanksgiving turkey as a robot, to help it survive through the holiday.
He changes his mind six times before he decides on cereal for breakfast. He picks his own pajamas, most often the top from one set and the bottom from another.
When I need a miracle, I look at him and remember I already have one. Two.
I am entirely guilty of excessive sentimentality, but I always see in him the tiniest matryoshka. How can he be old enough to explain economics, independent enough to glove his own fingers, big enough to decode words and to straddle worlds between make-believe and reality?
Part way through the first page, Tuck paused and said Wait, Albert was a real person, right? Andy and I assured him that he was. So this book is non-fiction then, it's all true? We explained the word biography, and said that maybe someday people could read a book about him. Andy pretended to begin writing it: On the 7th of March in the year 2009, a baby named Thomas Betz was born in Columbus, Ohio...
Tuck leaned back in bed and covered his face with his blanket.
I am getting better at seeing him as an independent being, not just my son, but his own self. And I think about all the people who might see him the way I do -- kind, creative, generous, funny. They'll be lucky to know him.
11.18.2014
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4 comments:
Duh.
Hola Tucker,
Next time we go to Mexico, we may need you to help translate. I'm sure you are more fluent than Grandma Sandy. The only word she has learned is "mas".
L2A
I love love love that you look at them as independent beings. I think many parents lack this trait. You rock!
This is beautiful. He's pretty lucky too you know.
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